Cuties
by Mother Nature's Daughter
Summary: A prePS fic like 'Cooties', but can be read without. The day before her first day of school, Sam decides she doesn't really want to go after all, based off some things Jake had told her. A relatively short oneshot.


So, you guys can look at this as a little ficlet just for back to school time!

I know, I know: most schools have been in for nearly three weeks now. So Frank (my muse) is a little slow. I can't do anything about it; he has a mind of his own!

After writing a fic about Sam and Jake as kids called "Cooties", I couldn't wait to write a few more. But I had expected them to be pretty far into the future, even though I have ideas for them. :-)

This one came earlier than expected because I had to write a short narrative for my English class about anything I wanted—so I chose to do this fic, only for my English class I changed the names to 'Madison' and 'Jason'. Boring. Much rather writer about Sam and Jake, I would!

FYI, this has nothing to do with "Cooties". Technically speaking, it even comes before this fic took place. If you like this, you might like "Cooties". But both can be read without the other; same thing goes for any others I may write. Call it a series if you like, but they don't rely on the other. By the way, I couldn't think of a title for this fic, so I chose to name it "Cuties" because it sounded so much like "Cooties."

I've talked too much. So…enjoy. Leave a comment at the end and make an author smile. ;-)

-o0o-

Cuties 

Six-year-old Samantha Forster was a bundle of nerves. She was so jumpy and jittery that she couldn't concentrate on her pony, Chestnut, as she rode him at a slow walk around the corral in her ranch yard.

"God Almighty, Sam." From outside the corral, where he was closingly keeping watch over his daughter's riding session, Sam's father, Wyatt, spoke in a slow drawl that (along with his boots and sun-weathered skin) proved him to be a true Western cowboy. "If you shake much more, your pony'll throw you off. Loosen up a bit; see how tight your reins are? You've got him a nervous wreck."

"I didn't mean to," said Sam, her voice high and shaky. She reached down past the saddle and stroked the chestnut pony with her little hand. "Sorry, Chessy," she said, "I was just thinking about tomorrow."

Tomorrow was Sam's first day of first grade. The little girl had knots in her stomach just thinking about it.

"Tomorrow?" Sam's mother, Louise, called, leaving the front porch to make her way over to the corral to stand by Wyatt. She entertwined her arm with her husband's, resting her head on his shoulder and smiling sweetly at him when he rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, embarrassed at this display of affection. She raised her head and looked at her daughter. "Are you excited for your first day of school?"

"Defintely _not_!" Sam said shrilly, causing Chestnut to startle the least bit. She quickly balanced herself by grabbing the saddle horn like her father had taught her to. "I don't want to leave the horses to go to school! What about Chestnut? He'll miss me too much!"

"Chestnut will be just _fine_. He'll have the other horses for company," Wyatt assured her, entering the corral to help her dismount. As Sam was scooped up into his arms, she called out,

"But the other horses might bully him! They're much bigger than him!"

Wyatt was laughing as he lowered his daughter off the horse and began to untacking him. "Why do I get the feeling we're talking about Sam and not Chesnut?" he asked slyly.

"Daddy's right, sweetheart." Louise folded her arms against the top rail of the corral. "Are you scared to start school, Sam?"

"A little," the child admitted, her shoulders sagging.

"What happened? You seemed so excited about it last week."

"That was before Jake told me all about it!" Sam said, her eyes wide. Louise sighed audibly, her brows furrowed. Jake Ely was one of the boys on the neighbouring ranches in their small Nevada town. He was in third grade, two years older than Sam; the two of them spent a lot of time together, but they seemed to bicker more than they got along.

"I'm sure Jake's only kidding, Sam," Wyatt said, returning from putting Chestnut in his stall in time to hear most of the conversation between mother and daughter. "What sort of things did he say to you?" he asked, unable to hide his curiosity at what the young boy could have possibly made up.

Sam drew a deep breath. "Everything," she said somberly; "all about the mean old women that bully the little girls if they have a name that starts with an 's'; and about the dark room full of spiders they put you in if you're bad; and how they make first graders eat bugs for lunch…"

Wyatt, in a small display of no self-control, burst out laughing in a combination of his daughter's seriousness and what he was he hearing. "Honey, none of that stuff is true," he said, "Jake's only joking."

"But he said he was telling the truth!" Sam persisted.

"Well, you just have to ask him about it when he gets here," Louise said, knowing her stubborn little daughter would never be convinced unless she heard it from Jake's own mouth. "I've invited all of the Elys over, but only Jake and his parents can make it."

"Good," Wyatt said, smiling, "then he can tell you it's not for real." He kissed his daughter's cheek, and at the teasing look of insult that was aimed at him, he kissed his wife's too. She smiled and returned the gesture.

Sam, on the other hand, didn't even act like her father had done anything. "No, you're wrong!" she insisted, "it _is_ true! I won't go to school tomorrow! I _can't_!" She ran away from them and into the house.

Louise and Wyatt looked at each other and sighed.

-o0o-

After a routinely dinner that night, Wyatt excused himself and went out to the barn with Jake's father, while Louise and Jake's mother aided Sam's Gram, who lived with them, in the kitchen. Sam and Jake quickly grew bored of watching their mothers clean, and so they went out to sit on the porch steps.

Jake leaned back again the steps in a mature way. "Tomorrow, I'll be in the _third_ grade," he said, as if he that were a great accomplishment and should be admired.

Sam looked at the ground miserably. "I'm not going to school tomorrow," she said firmly, "I'm not going to school _ever_."

"You scared, Brat?" Jack taunted, making sure to use his 'special name' for her.

Sam's jaw clenched as she almost denied it. But in the next moment she was standing up and yelling. "Well, it's your fault if I am!"

"Why would it be my fault, huh?" Unaffected by her outburst, Jake leaned back almost lesuirely.

"All the stories you told me! I can't go to school _now_!"

Jake's smile grew larger at the look on Sam's face. "You actually _believed_ that?" he screeched, burting into a fit of laughter.

Sam's whole body froze. "Jake _Ely_!" she screamed angrily; "you told me that was the _truth_!"

Jake's laughter grew louder. "And you actually _believed_ me?" he repeated, holding his side he was laughing so hard.

Sam's face scrunched up and she hit him in the arm; but she didn't have enough force to make it hurt. "I'm never talking to you again, Jake Ely!" she vowed, stomping down the stairs and racing out into the ranchyard in a huff.

"Aww, come on, Brat, don't act that way!" Sombering up quickly, Jake jumped off the stairs and caught up with Sam in the middle of the ranch yard easily. He touched her arm, hesitantly, trying to catch her eye.

Sam crossed her skinny little arms and turned away from him, nose in the air, refusing to look at him.

Jake sighed. "I'm sorry," he said truthfully; he didn't like it when Sam wasn't talking to him; when she was silent, there was no fun.

Slowly, Sam twisted her head to look at him. "You mean it?" she asked, already grinning that grin that meant he was forgiven.

"'Course."

"But I still don't want to go to school," Sam said quietly; "what if I can't find my classroom, or if I don't make any friends?"

Jake rolled his eyes, as if what he was about to do was this great act of charity that was so hard for him. "Listen, Brat," he began, "the third grade class is right next to the first grade's. Nothin' will happen to you because I'll be right there to protect you."

Sam's eyes twinkled. "You mean it?" she asked again, "you promise?"

"I promise."

"Do you cross your heart and hope to die?"

Jake crossed his heart with his forefinger and said the sacred childs' vow. Sam, grinning from ear to ear, stood up on tiptoe to hug him; Jake tolerated it for all of two seconds before he squirmed away.

"But if you _ever_ tell anyone about me helping a first grader, I'll never help you do anything again, you hear?"

Sam's expression went from joy to anger. "Whoever said I would ever need your help again!" She tried punching him, then stomping on his foot, and only grew angerier when he dodged and ran away. Furious now, she ran after him.

"Catch me if you can, slowpoke!" he called over his shoudler as Sam sped up to keep from falling behind. "Come on, Brat! Catch me! I'm a much faster runner than you, any—_OW_! Brat, that was my _foot_!"


End file.
